October 2024 (No.9)
[Art Citation: Sonia Lena Preston]
It is October, and Autumn is in full splendor in Monson, MA. All the leaves on the trees are turning dazzling bright yellows, deep oranges, and shocking crimsons. The whole world looks afire when the afternoon sunlight pours through the trees. Fallen leaves cover my yard, and dance in gentle swirls when caught upon the autumn mountain winds. The trees are modeling how to let go, how to shed what is no longer beneficial.
I’m starting to be affected by the big shifts in the fading light and cooler temperatures of the waning sun. I notice that it gets dark during my evening walks, just before 7pm, and I’m always grateful to be wearing my warm comfortable zippy. In the early mornings, there isn’t even a hint of pale blue or pink in the sky when I wake up and shuffle down the hallway from my bedroom to the kitchen, wearing comfy flannel pjs, a fleece hoodie, thick socks, and fleece lined slippers.
I can feel myself turning inwards with the Season. The other day I spent a couple hours rearranged the furniture in two rooms because, instinctively, I know that I’m going to be spending a lot of time indoors soon, and I’d better like my environment. I’ve been thinking of my crock pot this past week and looking forward to eating my favorite hearty stews and “chowdahs” again. I’ve also got a new set of bakeware (shout out to the Pioneer Woman!) so I’m exploring new recipes for apple crisps, pumpkin cookies, and banana breads. For me, winter is a great time to learn a new skill, since I’m going to be inside anyways, and this year I’ve chosen soap-making. So, I’m shopping around for the supplies for all that. (I’m so petrified of lye! This is going to take a lot of courage for me!)
The Harvest Continues. There are pumpkins and corn in the vegetable garden that still have yet to be harvested. The herb gardens still need to be cut, washed, and hung to dry. The herbs and flowers already hung up across doorframes and window lintels need to be processed, labeled, and stored. There are plants from which I need to extract the seeds for planting. The kitchen, dining room, and apothecary room have all been a mess for months—bottles, ribbons, twine, scissors, sticky labels, mason jars. I still do not have all the furniture I need in the apothecary (if you have friends in wmass getting rid of old cabinets let me know) so some of the jars are just on the floor in boxes, lining the room. Sometimes I find the work and clutter charming; other times I want to walk down the length of my working table, my arm outstretched like a giant snow plow, and just scoop everything within reach into a giant garbage can, and toss it all out, just to have clean, clutter-free, working spaces again…
But, I won’t do that. Instead, I’ll just keep at it, and work diligently, knowing that, soon enough, all the harvesting will be done, everything will be in its place, and my rooms will be reclaimed for indoor winter activities.
Samhain-tide is the time of year for looking ahead and prepping for winter, while simultaneously reflecting back on all that has happened during the year. The good. The not so good. The growth. The lessons. What has stayed the same? What has changed? What has been learned? What skills acquired? What wisdom gleaned?
An interesting thing happened about a month ago:
For awhile, the gardens were producing a lot! More than I could handle! Every day there were plenty of vegetables, herbs, and flowers, to harvest and process. I was straining to keep up with watering schedules! I couldn’t pull the weeds out fast enough! I felt completely overwhelmed! However, once a good portion of my gardens had been harvested, things seemed to slow down quickly. I would go out and check the gardens every day and nothing new would be happening out there. No new veggies. No flowers. No herbs overgrown. There weren’t even that many weeds! The corn seemed to stop growing, so I just assumed I wouldn’t have any corn this year. The pumpkins were not producing pistillates, so I just assumed I wouldn’t have any pumpkins either. To my ‘first-year-gardener’ eyes, it seemed like the gardens were “done.” So, after awhile, I stopped checking on them.
Then, after about two and a half weeks of avoiding the gardens, I went out early one morning just to peek and see what was going on out there, and I found that my corn had sprouted silk! (i.e. could be pollinated to produce corn). I ran to grab the garden hose and I watered the corn stalks, the pumpkin patch, the herb and flower beds, making sure all had a good drink. The next day two pistillate flowers were budded on my pumpkin vines, and more silk appeared on my corn. The sage and rosemary seemed to spring back to life and the lavender sprouted new flowers. The foxglove seeds that fell during summer now had bright green shoots poking out of the ground. The gardens were very much still in season and active!
What a powerful lesson! How many times, with how many other ‘gardens’ in my life (i.e. plans, relationships, goals, projects), did I not perceive that my efforts were producing fruit, only to quit juuuuuuust before the wonderful happened, just before the moment the goal was achieved? I’ll never know. It’s a theoretical question, the literal meaning of “the road not taken.” And, as I said about the autumn trees at the start: there is a very real paradox, here, in that there are definitely times in life when one needs to walk away from something that isn’t working; but this is not thatscenario. This is, perhaps, a reminder to be attentive and cautious, as best as I can, not to throw in the towel on something too soon? I’m still pondering the Mystery of it.
In the spirit of personal reflection, in relationship with the Universe, in awe of the agricultural Mysteries of the Season and the beauty of Autumn, I’m grateful for this reflection from my gardens. They are always teaching me something new about myself and the world.
I hope everyone is enjoying the Season, whatever shape and form that takes, in all its beauty, joy, comforts, reflections, and wisdoms.